


feelings like these aren't meant to last

by xxcaribbean



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Comfort, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>liam realizes his wax figure isn't all that it's cracked up to be, but he never expected so much hate to come from it either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	feelings like these aren't meant to last

If there’s one thing Liam is grateful for, it’s the fact that he has self-confidence like no other person he’s ever known. See, he’s not cocky or arrogant about it, and he doesn’t use what he has in order to get his way, but instead it’s focused on perseverance and wanting to get somewhere in life.

But just because he has one thing that most people strive for or wish they had naturally, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t trip up every so often. Liam’s a sensitive guy, and of course there’s nothing wrong with that either, but it gets the best of him in times when he’s mostly around people.

Now, it isn’t to say he’s scared of people, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have even gone back to the X Factor the second time around and tried his hand at the dream he’s always had, but from past experiences he’s always been an arm’s length away from everybody in the race of life.

It’s not like people did it on purpose either, Liam knows. He figured that he was too nice or too innocent, where people felt like they couldn’t hang out with him lest they corrupt him. Often times he’d end up alone on the playground too because it seemed as if he had a force field around him that kept everyone away. One would think it was just Liam seeing things for what they weren’t, but it’d been that way all throughout grade school and high school too.

When he’d found his passion to sing, he thought that maybe it would ease some of the burden he’d had the past couple of years. During all those times he’d just wanted to fit in but it didn’t help much until he’d been placed with a group of lads who were different than him and seemed to be much cooler too. Though they had welcomed him with open arms, had accepted him and as sad as Liam thinks it is, it was the first time he felt like he belonged somewhere. He had four new brothers – and eventually one who become more than that for him – and the feeling in his chest never ceases to lift whenever he’s around them because he’s reminded that they, at least, care enough about him.

But right now all of those memories and everything that had been before his life at this moment, comes flooding back because as he scrolls through his twitter comments, his mood is steadily growing sour by the minute (not just because of what they're saying but because he knows they're pretty much true).

It’s never a good thing to read comments on the site anyway because there are many, many people who voice opinions that shouldn’t. But to Liam, it’s like a drug because one negative comment after the next pops up, and he can’t help but read them. It makes Liam feel worse than he already had been when he’d first seen the finished result of his wax figure.

It’s the latest news in the One Direction world, and while it’s nowhere near as nice as new music, it’s still quite incredibly exciting to be included in something as famous as Madame Tussauds.

“Liam, what are you doing?”

Liam looks up quickly and hopes he doesn’t look too startled, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.

“Nothing,” he says. It’s better to work with a lie first before delving into a reluctant truth.

Zayn narrows his eyes, pinning Liam with a stare that knows will make him uncomfortable. “I’ll take your word for it right now, but if you don’t stop looking so upset I’ll force it out of you.”

Liam nods once before he watches Zayn leave the room and leave him be. He bites at his lip and wonders if he should close the laptop in order to try his best to forget about the nasty comments, but there’s a little button that says  _refresh_ , and it’s more than a little tempting. So Liam clicks it, and his heart crumbles because even if his figure is made of wax, it still should’ve looked like him more than something ugly.

Then again, Liam thinks it only turned out that way because he was used for its reference.

x.x.x.x

A day or two goes by, and Liam tries his best to resist looking at any further comments. He’s not quite sure why this one thing has gotten to him so badly, but it has. In the beginning, when they’d first unveiled the wax figures for the boys to sit next to and have their pictures taken, Liam had thought they were all brilliant. But when he’d been instructed to sit next to his so they could get close-ups, only then did Liam begin to feel slightly out of place.

They’d also been left to their own devices afterwards, so they’d all taken their time and gone over the finer details of each wax figure, pointing out little things they might’ve not noticed the first time their eyes set upon the figures. And when Liam had glanced at his, studied it and realized that his wasn’t being marveled at, those feelings of previous inadequacy reared their ugly head.

“There’s something on your mind.”

Liam sniffs but avoids Zayn’s gaze. It always somehow manages to be Zayn that catches him off guard and at his weakest.

“It’s nothing.”

Zayn quirks a brow and nudges Liam with his foot. “Why don’t I believe you then?”

“Because you’re looking for something out of nothing.”

“But I wouldn’t have gotten that something if it was really nothing.”

That’s what causes Liam to finally look over at Zayn. He’s lying on the couch, sock covered feet curled up under Liam’s leg for more warmth. “It’s stupid,” he admits.

“It’s not.”

“But it is.”

“Why don’t you tell me, and I’ll be the judge of that.” Zayn eventually sits up so that he’s closer to Liam. He ends up leaning his head forward just enough to make his eyes appear that much bigger before sticking his bottom lip out. “Please?”

Liam’s face falls because he knows he can’t resist that face nor can he resist Zayn altogether. “I hate my wax figure,” he blurts out suddenly. He watches as Zayn gets a weird look on his face, one that clearly shows that out of everything Liam could’ve admitted, that hadn’t been what he expected to hear.

“What?”

“It’s horrible, Zayn. And I couldn’t tell that to the people who made it because that would’ve been rude, but it looks nothing like me – okay maybe it slightly looks like me – but I’m not, well, I’m not that bad, am I?” He’d meant to sound affirming, like he knew exactly what he was talking about, but by the end of his words, his resolve slips, and he’s left feeling very open. “Everyone thinks it’s bad compared to the rest of the band’s, and I have to agree because it’s-”

Zayn places a hand on Liam’s thigh to get him to calm down but what it does is stop Liam from talking altogether.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Liam, who’s everyone?” Zayn asks quietly.

“Everyone,” he answers, feeling rather small under Zayn’s gaze.

“What I’m about to say, I want you to listen, Liam. Can you do that for me?” Zayn ends up squeezing Liam’s leg in order to gain his attention once again. He waits for Liam’s nod of approval before he begins. “It’s not the best piece of artwork around,” Zayn starts.

Liam's eyes widen so quickly that Zayn has half a mind to take back what he’s about to say (and correct what he's already said) because Liam looks like he might lose his breathe if Zayn doesn’t start explaining soon.

“And what I mean by that it has nothing to do with you.”

“It’s my  _face_  they used for the blood thing, Zayn! Of course it’s got everything to do with me. I look like a chipmunk.”

Zayn sighs before maneuvering closer to Liam, pulling his feet out from under the other lad’s legs so that he can sit right beside him. He slings an arm around Liam’s shoulder and sets his forehead against Liam’s temple. “They used your face, but someone had to re-sculpt it entirely, and by doing that there’s bound to be a few mistakes along the way.”

Liam feels like pulling away but he doesn’t. Instead he reaches out for Zayn’s hand and curls their fingers together. “Yours turned out fine.”

“Believe it or not, nothing compares to the original.” Zayn pulls away from Liam to look him in the eye. “Nothing compares to  _you_  either. You can’t let people’s comments get to you, and you can’t eat yourself up about the way that one person decided to make you look on wax. That’s not fair.”

“If I looked any different, it probably wouldn’t have turned out the way that it had,” Liam quietly says.

Zayn closes his eyes and realizes that this isn’t going to work right now; words are really not what Liam needs so he shifts until he’s able to get his phone out of his pocket. He messes around with it for a moment or two, and Liam’s not quite sure what to make of that until Zayn pulls away from Liam entirely and holds it up.

“What are you doing?” Liam leans back and looks at Zayn as if he’s crazy. “Really?”

“Just sit still please.” Zayn moves his phone around a bit until he presses a button, and the sound of the camera going off has Liam realize what he’s doing.

“You’re going to show me a picture of myself, Zayn? Seriously?” He’s more than a little upset. He figured Zayn would help him out with this and his untimely dilemma, but Zayn just quirks the side of his mouth and climbs off the couch.

“Trust me, babe. You won’t be disappointed.”

And with that, Zayn’s gone, leaving Liam on the couch still feeling as miserable as before.

x.x.x.x

“If you want to see it, you’re going to have to come here.”

Liam’s in the kitchen making himself some food when he gets a call from Zayn who’s actually in their room but is apparently too lazy to find Liam himself. “What are you on about?”

“This is your proof.”

Liam furrows his brow but that doesn’t do any good when Zayn’s on the phone. “Of what?’

“You’ll find out if you hurry up.” And then there’s a beep on the other end that indicates Zayn’s hung up on him. Liam stares down at his phone and forgets about making himself some food as of the moment until he can go settle whatever idea Zayn’s thought up.

When Liam makes his way through the house and down the hall to the bedroom, he finds Zayn sitting in the middle of their bed with a sketchpad lying out just before him.

“C’mere,” he says, patting the spot beside him.

Liam follows and climbs up on the bed next to Zayn. “What’s this?” Liam looks down and finds a rough sketch on the paper. It’s in pencil, and it doesn’t look like it’s done yet either, but it’s enough for Liam to realize what Zayn’s drawing. “Why are you drawing me?” he asks in bewilderment. He picks up the pad of paper and brings it closer to his face to study the finer details. He’s careful in where he places his fingers so as not to smudge any of it.

“Because I can, and also because you’re being ridiculous about your wax figure.”

Liam frowns remembering their conversation from a few days ago but the more he looks at Zayn’s drawing, the more he can see that it looks like that picture he’d taken on his phone. “But I’m not.”

“Oh, Liam, but you are.” Zayn pokes him in the arm and gives him an innocent look. “You see, an artist,” Zayn points to himself at this point, “has a different kind of perception of reality. We see things in vivid color and detail but when one thing sparks our interest, that’s the only thing we focus on. Unfortunately some people need more practice than others but what matters most is that they are painting what they see through their eyes.”

Zayn holds up one finger for Liam to see. “One person can see what someone else can’t, while that same person may not be able to see what the majority of others can.”

“I don’t think I understand,” Liam admits, and he expects Zayn to roll his eyes, but he doesn’t. Zayn just smiles at him with kind eyes.

“Your wax figure was done via an artist that saw one image while the rest of society, who you believe thinks the figure is ugly, sees you differently.” Zayn carefully takes the sketchpad from Liam but hold sit up so that the both of them can see it. “And this is how I see you. Granted, it was through a lens, but you’re more than that, Liam.” Zayn shrugs and sets down the paper and is nearly ready to climb off the bed to give Liam his space, but Liam is then leaning forward and kissing him on the mouth before moving back and looking mildly unsure of what to do next.

“Thank you,” he says. He’s not sure if what Zayn’s trying to say really makes him feel better because feelings and emotions are complicated little bastards that sometimes need to be worked through on their own. But that doesn’t mean that Liam doesn’t appreciate it either because Zayn had gone out of his way to make Liam see something entirely different, his point of view on the one he loves. And honestly, that’s really all that should matter.

“You’ll stop reading what they say, won’t you? They make you upset, and I don’t like it when you don’t like yourself." Zayn has a pleading expression on his face, and it nearly makes Liam feel guilty. "It hurts because I love you exactly as you are and the way that I view you is more than what any wax figure could do for me.” He's earnest, and sincere, and so when Liam takes a deep breathe, his mind is made up.

"We'll work on it, yeah?" Because Liam knows he's not going to be able to do it without Zayn. And maybe this is one of those things to figure out on his own, figure out himself and where the problem of insecurity lies, but he knows, and he's told Zayn before too. The only plausible thing now, and because he's in a relationship, is to work on it together because again, Zayn understands more than he thought possible, and right now, he needs that, needs Zayn and his care the most.


End file.
